Alone on the Edge (The Chronicles of Anna Foster)

by Patrick Stutzman

  “So, how do you know that Mechgineer Tools went under?”

  “I have a 5.68 minute recording of an emotional statement given by the caretaker aboard the station at that time about his dissatisfaction with his inability to gain future support for his favorite tool.”

  “Angry?” she surmised with a smirk.

  “That is correct, Anna.”

  “Not surprising. I’d be pissed, too. Do you know what he used this for?”

  Several seconds passed without a response from the computer. Finally, it responded, “Video footage indicates that he used the tool for scanning the flow of electricity to and from various machines. Its name implies that it could detect a wider range of energies across the electromagnetic spectrum.”

  Anna leaned over the circuitry and peered at them for several seconds in silence.

  “I don’t think I can salvage this,” she stated with a sigh. Staring at the disassembled device for several more seconds, a smile slowly crept across her face.

  “But, I may be able to fix it!”

  Carefully lifting the silver casing to eye level, she peered at it with a huge grin and expounded, “If I can map out the circuit board and determine the various components, I can put this to good use. I just need my hand scanner.”

  Returning the casing to the table, Anna retrieved the scanner from her belt and passed it over the circuit board. Looking at the results after finishing the sweep, she frowned upon seeing that the scan successfully mapped only 38% of the board. But, the schematic did identify all of the major components that were still attached, and she smiled, knowing that she would be able to plot the circuitry and fill in the gaps. She could possibly even improve on the design.

  Completing the circuit design only took her a few minutes on her wristcomp. Setting her mind to finding a suitable replacement board, she rummaged through the cabinets around the workbench with no luck and continued her search throughout the rest of the repair bay with similar results. After a few minutes, she stood in the middle of the room and ran her fingers through her hair while she contemplated on where to locate the needed part.

  Turning slowly, Anna spotted a closet in the back of the room. Ignoring the shadows that plagued the walk-in storage room, she rummaged through the piles of parts within, until she found a tarp lying over a large pile on the very bottom. Without thinking, she removed the tarp and stepped back, staring wide-eyed at what had been hidden beneath it.

  “Oh, my god!”

  Chapter 15

  “Oh, my god!” Anna repeated a few seconds later with a lilt of surprise and joy as she covered her mouth with her hand. “I can’t believe I had forgotten about this!”

  Lying on the floor of the closet was a machine that vaguely resembled the majority of a human skeleton. It lacked half a leg, hands, and half of the front of its chest, but the sight of the metal skeleton was unmistakable and reminded her of something out of a classic 2D science fiction movie.

  Lifting the chassis, Anna hefted the construct out of its cramped quarters and sat it on the workbench, where it slumped forward and threatened to fall to the floor. She pushed it back a couple of times before it finally stayed in place.

  Stepping back to look over the skeleton again, she smiled at the memories of her initial work. A little over a year after her arrival, the loneliness had gotten the better of her, and the computer was not much of a friend at the time. So, she resolved to put her robotic skills to good use and make her own friend. She spent the better part of two months finding pieces of scrap metal and extra parts to build it, even going so far as dismantling her hair dryer for parts. The basic endoskeleton was near completion when the culinary system broke down, and she had to scavenge parts from the unfinished robot to fix the broken food distributor. Disappointed that she could not put the last touches on her work, she set the project aside, hoping to complete the endeavor later.

  The sentiment she felt toward her old “friend” kept Anna from removing one of the circuit boards on the skeleton, and she wracked her brain to think where an extra one may be on the station. Not thinking of one that could be spared, she sighed heavily and reluctantly uninstalled one of the needed boards from the skeleton.

  “I will get you a new one,” she consoled the lifeless robot while she detached the part. “I will put in an order for more circuit boards, and I will finish building you.”

  Anna patted the robot’s thigh as she palmed the part and turned her attention back to her new project. Within minutes, she had tested and transplanted the components, replacing the damaged ones from her supplies, to the new board and soldered them in place. After cleaning the remaining corrosion from inside the case, she reassembled the device and turned the dial. Not fully aware she had been holding her breath, she sighed and smiled when the lights on one of the protrusions illuminated with a soft pink glow.

  “Computer,” she announced as she grabbed it and wiped it clean with a cloth while thinking of what she could do to make sure it worked properly. “I’m going to go test this and see how well it works.”

  “As you wish, Anna.”

  Several minutes later after she had walked around the area with the device in hand, she returned to the repair bay with a broad smile on her face.

  “How did your new tool perform, Anna? Did it pass your test?” the computer asked.

  “You’re damn right it did!” she responded sarcastically. “It passed with flying colors. Now, I just need to figure out how to read it.”

  “What did it do?”

  Frustrated, Anna replied, “I pointed it at a number of things with power running through them. After a second or two, this pink light started flashing really fast. I turned the dial, and the light shifted to one of the other stems. Without any markings or an instruction manual, I can’t make heads or tails of this thing!”

  “I am sorry you are experiencing difficulties with your new device.”

  “Yeah? Well, I just hope I can figure it out. Hey, you don’t happen to have an operator’s manual or something on file for this. Do you?”

  The computer replied after a couple of seconds, “Unfortunately, the document is not on file, Anna.”

  “Figures,” she sighed. “Okay. Just add it to my tool belt’s inventory.”

  “Do you wish to retain its original name, the Mechgineer Tools HLC-42 Handheld Electromagnetic Sensor?”

  “Sure,” she commented facetiously. “Why not?”

  “Very good, Anna. Your new tool is now registered in the station’s inventory.”

  She smiled slightly while stashing the device in her tool belt, “Thanks.”

  Catching the steel skeleton out of the corner of her eye, Anna turned and looked at it sitting on her workbench. Her thoughts wandered back to the beginning of her tenure aboard the station and her desire for companionship, and the memories flashed through her mind’s eye like a collage of brief scenes. While she remained focused on it, curiosity in her ability to make it work successfully and the desire to finish its construction grew.

  “Computer,” she finally stated. “Add a package of circuit boards to the next order, varying sizes.”

  “Acknowledged.

  “Anna,” the computer continued. “It is time for your daily workout. You are to focus on your upper body today.”

  Nodding, she replied, “Thanks. I’ll head over in a bit.”

  Pointing her finger at the construct, Anna muttered, “And you, my friend, will be walking these halls with me in no time.”

  Smiling to herself at the thought, she turned and walked from the repair bay.

  * * * * *

  A short while later, Anna had returned to the repair bay after her scheduled workout. Sitting at the workbench, she hunched over a mass of metal rods and wires while soldering two of the metal rods together. She stopped after a couple of minutes, set the soldering iron aside, and arched her back, stretching the muscles along her spine while she looked over her work thus far.

  The half-completed hand lay on th
e counter with its disconnected fingers and thumb fanned out around its metal metacarpals. Wires clamped together near the wrist joint snaked along the thin, steel beams, giving the appearance of nerves and blood vessels on bright gray bones.

  Anna glanced to the far end of the workbench, where the lower leg struts and partially completed foot rested. Lacking only the servos to create the joints in the foot and ankle, she compared the work to the incomplete hand before her and wiggled her toes. Satisfied with the fruits of her labors, she slid off the stool and stepped back from the workbench.

  “Hmm,” she commented as she rubbed her butt for a few seconds. “Ass is numb.”

  A few seconds later, a yawn escaped through her lips. Anna blinked a few times and decided to call it a night, when the computer interrupted her thoughts, “Anna?”

  “Yes, computer?” she answered heavily.

  “Emergency repairs are needed in Red-2,” announced the computer. “I am detecting fluctuating power levels in the section.”

  Anna groaned, “Can’t this wait until morning? I’m about to drop.”

  “The fluctuations are increasing at a steady rate, Anna. The problem could potentially spread throughout the station, if the issue is not resolved.”

  “Fine,” she sighed heavily as she grabbed her tool belt and wrapped it around her waist. “I’m on my way.”

  A few minutes later, Anna stepped out of the elevator into the dark corridor. Pulling out her flashlight, she turned it on and looked around for the cause of the problem. As the elevator doors closed, choking off the only other source of light, the hall lights flickered on for a few seconds and died.

  “You weren’t kidding about those power fluctuations,” she remarked as she moved down the passage while conducting her search. She waited to see if the computer could respond, but the overwhelming silence that followed lent credence to the computer’s report. With only a momentary pause, she resumed her search for the source of the problem.

  Walking into an unlit conference room several minutes later, Anna glanced around the room and turned to leave, when she spotted a small pool of water on the floor. She cocked her head and stepped toward the water. As she knelt next to the puddle, a drop of water splashed into it from above. She looked up at the ceiling, directing her flashlight upward.

  Condensation had built up along the seam around a closed maintenance hatch, and water slowly dripped down to the floor at regular intervals. The reinforced hatch looked like most of the other maintenance portals throughout the station, designed to recede into the wall with the press of a switch but equipped with a sturdy bar that stopped it from totally disappearing into the wall and could be pulled in case it did not open under its own power.

  Anna frowned, theorizing that someone had placed an air conditioning unit next to a power cable, and that condensation from a faulty component was shorting out the power feed. Retrieving a ladder from a nearby storage locker, she climbed to the ceiling, opened the small panel in the ceiling to access the manual override, and pulled the lever. She heard the seal release, but the access panel did not slide open as expected. Grasping the handle, she took a deep breath and pulled with all her strength.

  As the hatch glided into the wall, water flooded down through the opening, deluging a surprised Anna and knocking her from her perch to the floor below. The impact knocked the wind out of her, and she flailed under the continuous rush of water against her. Seconds later, she rolled out from under the waterfall to catch her breath.

  Angered by the turn of events, Anna snapped her gaze over her shoulder at the open hatch above to see that the torrential flow of water had decreased to a mild stream.

  “Idiot!” she berated herself as she rose to her feet, realizing too late that she should have positioned the ladder so she could push the hatch open instead of pulling it. By doing so, she could have used the ladder for additional support and probably prevented her fall.

  Walking to the ladder that had also been knocked over, she positioned it into place. Taking a moment to calm down before beginning her ascent, she climbed up into the maintenance tunnel.

  After climbing in, Anna discovered that the water level was wrist-deep, despite having drained for the past couple of minutes. The sound of the water’s impact against the floor in the room below had become muffled by the rising water level, allowing her to hear the source of the problem ahead. Directing her flashlight down the tunnel, she quickly located the section of the pipe that had burst. She directed the light along the length of the crawlspace to find the shut-off valve but was not able to see it.

  Resorting to her wristcomp, Anna accessed the deckplans for the area and located the emergency shut-off valve in the central axis of the station. With a mild groan, she climbed out of the maintenance shaft and sloshed through the small lake that filled the vacant room which was now slowly leaking under the door into the hallway.

  Anna reached the shutoff valve without any problems. One glance at the old, rusted valve assembly, complete with a large metal wheel to open and close it, bolted to the floor of the central axis told her that closing it may prove to be much more difficult than she had expected. She grasped the round, red handle and attempted to turn it, but it refused to budge, even if she braced herself on the ladder and used both hands. She begrudgingly pulled the hammer from her belt, gritted her teeth, and banged the tool against the wheel several times before trying again.

  No luck.

  Several more strikes against the handle finally gave Anna the result she sought, and she hastily dropped the hammer to the floor and threw her weight into turning the handle. Several seconds of force finally freed the wheel, and she quickly spun the valve shut. Collapsing on the floor, she caught her breath for a few seconds before collecting her tools and returning to the flooded room.

  Water filled the corridor outside the conference room halfway up Anna’s calves and poured into her work boots again. She opened the door, allowing the water to flow around her legs and rise to her knees, and sighed heavily before trudging back into the room. Climbing back into the tunnel which was now almost nearly devoid of water, she searched the length of the shaft until she found the exposed power cables several meters from the leak. The casing that housed the cords had filled with water, submerging the cords and causing the outage.

  Anna shook her head in disbelief, daring not to plunge her hand into the gaping maw. Instead, she opened a channel through her wristcomp and commanded, “Computer, shut off the power feed to Red-2.”

  “Acknowledged, Anna. The power is off.”

  After closing the channel, she turned the casing over and dumped the water out, letting it flow out the hatch to join the rest of the water below. She measured the cables to determine how much line needed to be replaced, noted the results in her wristcomp, and returned to the repair bay to obtain the materials.

  Anna reached the repair bay without incident and rifled through the storage bins and drawers, hoping to find the cable she needed before her eyelids grew too heavy. The ordeal kept her up later than she preferred, and she was quickly running low on energy. She stifled a yawn that sneaked past her lips, rubbed her eyes, and forced herself to focus on the task at hand.

  After spending several minutes searching the room, she found a few short lengths of the appropriate cable needed to complete the task. However, she found that the spliced wiring was not long enough to complete the repair. She searched the room again more thoroughly, fighting her fatigue as she did, but was unable to produce any additional cable.

  “Computer,” she asked wearily. “You probably mentioned this before, but is the command deck offline due to the power failure?”

  “The command deck is offline, Anna. No power is reaching that part of the station.”

  Anna shook her head in confusion, “When did that happen?”

  “The power failure occurred 25.3 minutes ago.”

  “Where was I?” she muttered. “Probably in the maintenance hatch at the time.”

  With a f
rown, she continued, “Computer, do we have any more 4/0 gauge electrical wire in stock?”

  “Inventory indicates that 0.87 meters of 4/0 gauge wire is available and currently located in the repair bay.”

  Anna glanced around the room with a furrowed brow, hoping to catch a glimpse of the missing cord. After a few seconds, she snapped, “And, exactly where the fuck is it?”

  “Behind you.”

  She turned, and her gaze fell upon the robot still sitting on the workbench. Her eyes widened, her expression fell in disbelief.

  “No!” she exclaimed. “You mean to tell me that it’s in the robot?!”

  “Yes, Anna. In fact, video documentation dating back 4.89 years shows you taking the segment of wire from the inventory and installing it into the robot. It would appear that you failed to appropriately log its use.”

  “No, no, no,” she reiterated skeptically. “It’s the main power conduit for its systems. I have to have it. I need her!”

  “According to your measurements, that length of wire that you refuse to surrender is almost the precise length you need to complete the repairs in Red-4. I must remind you of your priorities, Anna.”

  She looked at the robot with a long face for several seconds. She felt her second chance at finishing the robot and having another physical presence on the station slipping through her fingers. Fate seemed to be toying with her, taunting her again and again with the possibility of companionship only to have it pulled out from under her. The mere thought of another lost opportunity infuriated her.

  Finally, she snarled, “Fine.”

  Stepping purposefully to the workbench, Anna threw open the back panel of her project and hastily but carefully removed the needed wire from its spinal column.

  “Computer,” she demanded hotly as she walked toward the exit. “Add another batch of 4/0 gauge wire to the next order.”

  “As you wish, Anna.”

  Chapter 16